Fresh Pole Beans, and more...

Someone gave me a few pounds of fresh pole beans. The beans are fresh from the garden. Beautiful, green and lushly full. They require preparation before cooking. I string them, they have lots of strings to contend with-more than half-runners. I break them into little pieces. Some must be shelled and I think of the term "Shellie beans".

As they cook, they are browner than half-runners and I, in my ignorance, wonder if they are the beans that when dried become pinto--or soup beans. I added some bacon fat, in spite of my acclaimed vegetarianism, and simmer them down low in the pot, just the way Mother taught me.

How delicious they are. How much work! I begin to think about the people who sow the seeds, nourish the plants, weed the gardens, pray for rain, pray for the floods to wait, harvest the beans at just the right time, string them, clean them, then can or cook them for our pleasure. Sometimes, if we're lucky, they just share the bounty with us. Would you do it? Would I?

I worked on this one batch because I felt it would be sacrilegious to not prepare the beans after someone else had done all the work to bring them to life. I admire farmers so much. I love their attention to every plant and the hard work required for every bit of food we have.

A student brought me tomatoes and green peppers and I made it a personal quest to create something original and tasty that would honor his labor. I used couscous, olive oil, and garlic to blend the tomatoes and peppers into a gourmet delight. I also made some very delicious vegetable soup with regular and purple cabbage, onions, basil, oregano, assorted sweet and hot green peppers, tomatoes, with some V-8 Juice for liquid.

At a party recently, I dumped 3 quarts of Johnny and Eda's canned green beans in a pot and added a small amount of bacon grease as they "cooked down". No salt. They were such a hit that everyone asked, "How'd you make these"? Maybe it was a unique offering in today's world--but commonplace on my childhood table.

Paul brought beans, peppers, purple cabbage, and tomatoes from his garden. We piled them in an old garden basket and the "centerpiece" received rave reviews.

Fresh cucumbers were perfect in our fresh pasta salad with veggies and in sister Peggy's famous macaroni salad. I have used the last of the squash, but must admit a few large zucchinis are sitting in my kitchen with no immediate use in mind. I ripened the last of the tomatoes in the sunshine on the kitchen window sill. Now they're gone. Ripened before I found the time to fry the green ones--and eaten with great sensual gastronomic pleasure.

Everyday I clip leaves from my herb garden planters laden with basil, Greek oregano, lemon balm, sage, flat and curly leaf parsley, thyme, rosemary, and chives. A thoughtful gift of labor and love from dear friends and family. Someone sent me a few pods of okra--or "Okrie" as we always called it. I cannot wait to cut them up, coat them in meal and fry them to a delicious crisp.

I do no take these bounties for granted.
I don't think I'd like to farm, but I sure do love farmers and respect every ounce of the labor they give to our well being....

To brother John and wife, Eda,
To David and wife Tammy,
To Red,
To Maryam and Fatima,
To Sandy (Who, I hope will make more pesto this year!)
To Mark and Velvet

Peace,
Judy